


Little Devil Darlin'

by y4ndereking



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine, Original Work
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-25
Updated: 2017-05-25
Packaged: 2018-11-04 19:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10997334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/y4ndereking/pseuds/y4ndereking
Summary: A girl named Mimi finds herself possessed by a demon. Will she find a way to get rid of him?(Lightly inspired by Bendy and the Ink Machine)





	Little Devil Darlin'

The name’s Mimi. I’m 18, I go to Rivertown High School. I’m kind of weird-- as in I have fluffy pink hair, I look like a goddamn magical girl, and my texts are comprised of 90% kaomojis. That’s about it.

Oh yeah, and I’m possessed by a demon.

He says his name’s “Akuma”, and he’s basically the bane of my existence. He makes my life a living hell-- no pun intended. He’s gross, he’s vulgar, and he talks like some kind of really perverted 1940’s mob boss. Says he wants to sacrifice me to his god, but I don’t believe it for a second. He’s like 2 feet tall.

But of course, he doesn’t make things easy for me. I’ve unintentionally flipped a guy’s skirt up, I have to constantly run to the bathroom to cough up what I hope is ink, and everything I eat tastes like friggin’ nothing.

Last week, he made me call some pretty white girl in my Ceramics class a “tart” and push her over. That earned me a 4 hour detention. Fantastic.

For some reason, he only pulls this crap at school and work. As soon as I get home, he pops on out of my control and sits on my desk, insulting me.

“Y’know, doll, I don’t think you know what you’re getting yourself into,” he taunts.

“That so?”

“You betta’ believe it. Before yanno it, I’ll have starved ya to death and used those pretty pink locks to stuff my pillows when the boss has your soul.”

“That’s great.” I respond, and he just keeps going.

However, that’s about to stop today. You see, I have a particularly edgy friend named Kayla who’s into the whole “demonic possession” thing. She’s an awkward, eccentric kid, 15 years old, constantly wearing dorky gaming gloves. I loved her with all my heart.

“I promise, Mimi, you’ll be just fine!” She assured.

“Y’know, I kinda find it hard to trust you when you’re about to slice my hand open.”

With an annoyed look at that last comment, she bled my hand over a tiny pot on a hot plate. A few herbs were dropped in with my blood and some rosewater, some of which I didn’t really want to ask about-- and before I knew it, the brew was done. She whispered something concerningly cryptic, bandaged my hand, and told me something I probably should’ve expected from the start.  
“Come on, I promise, all you gotta do is drink it! It’s like a half a cup, and that demon of yours will be as good as gone,” Kayla explained.

And believe it or not, I obeyed. It was harder than expected, but I somehow managed to choke down the last of that little pot.

“Tomorrow morning, you’ll be just fine.

⛧⛧⛧

I woke up with a nice big scratch across the bridge of my nose. Nothing too bloody, just something to say, I’m still here, jackass! And as expected, Akuma sat leisurely at the foot of my bed.

“Mornin’, sunshine. Sleep well?” He said with an obnoxious grin.

I decided to pretend he wasn’t there. I brushed my teeth, I popped in my contacts, and I had some toast with strawberry jelly. The usual. Akuma didn’t like this very much.

All day at school, he decided to make my life hell. He made me roll on the ground in the middle of the hallway, my bloodshot eyes rolled all the way back and black bubbles leaking from my mouth. At lunch, he made me throw up everything I had eaten, including his trademark ink. The nurses didn’t really know what they were supposed to do, so I just got sent home.

I was exhausted. I didn’t know what the hell I was supposed to do at this point-- I figured he’d probably kill me at some point. I wouldn’t put it past him.

However, he was strangely silent that night. He didn’t taunt me or torment me. He just... sat there at the foot of my bed, staring down at the floor. It seemed like he had something intense on his mind.

Oh well. He’d put me through enough crap at that point. I figured I’d let him work this one out on his own.

⛧⛧⛧

People were starting to talk about me. I mean, I wasn’t really surprised, it’s not like they liked me in the first place. Now, there were rumours going around that I was on hard drugs, which led to both teachers and students constantly climbing up my ass about some stupid gossip that had been floating around.

Now, our school doesn’t really have any cliques. People just hang out with their friends, who, more often than not, share their interests and attitudes. Sometimes, they were just mean and obnoxious.

The girls were pretty nice, if not a bit petty, but there was a group of boys who couldn’t stand the thought of being around me-- which of course, meant that they’d constantly go out of their way to track me down and make fun of me.

This guy in particular was named Ren Brooklyn. He was your average “nerd boy”, always had some gaming system in his cargo shorts pockets, a really ugly striped polo, and had his head shoved so far up his ass that he thought the reason girls didn’t want to date him was because he liked video games. Truth was, he was just a huge jerk and everyone knew it.

“Damn, Mimi, I never thought you’d be the one to try out crack,” he said as he followed behind me to my next class.

“Oh, is that what you think I’m on?” I giggled. “Try bath salts.”

“HA!! Guess it runs in the family, huh?”

I turned toward Ren and stopped in my tracks. “What did you just say?”

“Looks like you became a druggie just like your degenerate mommy, doesn’t it?”

⛧⛧⛧

I don’t really remember what happened. I couldn’t really see anything before my vision went dark. All I could hear was a deafening ringing in my ears.

All I know’s that as soon as I woke up, Ren stared at me with the most terrified look I’d ever seen someone pull. He’d wet himself, and tears streamed down his face. Truth is, I almost felt sorry for the poor kid. But I’m no pacifist.

Akuma-- or what I thought was Akuma-- stood beside me. He was 10 feet tall, form dripping with a thick black slime, teeth jutting out from his deformed-looking jaw. The cute, cartoony demon I knew was nowhere to be found. All I could see was... this.

Akuma looked back at me with a feral, wild look in his eyes, unretractable claws poised to slice Ren’s chest open.

Honestly, I still have a hard time admitting what I felt that day as I walked home. Strangely, the demon chose to walk beside me after he had returned to his simpler form instead of hitching a ride in my soul. We walked in silence until we got to my door.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out.

I froze halfway through turning the key in the rusty metal lock and looked at him.

“L-look, kid. I know I’ve put ya through a lot ‘a shit these past few months. I know you don’t like it. I... I just needed a soul. The whole ‘spinnin’ your head’ thing... it’s all an act. I felt like I had a role to play. I got carried away. I’m sorry, kid.”

I just kind of looked at him with a shocked expression. I mean, what was I supposed to say?

“C-come on, don’t gimme that look!” He said as a blush spread across his cheeks.

“I... h-hang on.”

I walked into my kitchen with him and took out a pot. I remembered the recipe perfectly-- two cups of coconut milk, four ounces of chopped dark chocolate, a tablespoon of sugar, a dash of cinnamon, and a teaspoon of cayenne powder. I poured the drink into two pink coffee cups and slid one over to him.

“Thanks...”

We sat at the kitchen island and just... talked. For ages. He told me where he came from, who his “boss” was, what he wanted with my soul, and a little bit about who he really was. He was actually pretty funny, if not harsh sometimes. I told him about my mother, my hair, and why people were so mean to me all the time. It was kind of... nice.

⛧⛧⛧

“YO!! Mimi! It’s time to go, lazy!”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.”

I slipped on my hoodie, stepped into my boots, and slid on my backpack. Akuma handed me my skateboard and hopped into my bag, as we had done every day before work.

“Let’s go!”

The name’s Mimi. I’m 18, I just graduated from Rivertown High School. I’m kind of weird-- as in I have fluffy pink hair, I look like a goddamn magical girl, and my texts are comprised of 90% kaomojis. That’s about it.

Oh yeah, and I’m best friends with my demon.


End file.
